Hug somebody
Posted: Wed Jul 06, 2011 10:30 pm
I had a reminder today about the strangeness of life and death. I went to a memorial service for someone I hadn't seen in at least 15 years. I didn't know she had died until her husband called me around 10 p.m. last night. The husband and his late wife were part of the group with whom I used to play NTN trivia, as it then was called. We played at a restaurant/bar that shut down, and none of the other places we might have played seemed quite the same or as much fun, so gradually the group -- the usual conglomerate of people of varying ages and occupations in a college town -- drifted apart. I still liked the heck out of all those folks, mind you, but our lives no longer intersected very often. I always assumed that I would run into each of them sooner or later -- lots of time for that sort of thing! -- until one of us ran out of time. She had a heart attack. She was 46.
I probably wasn't the first choice for the husband's phone call, but as so many people have turned to cell phones and unlisted numbers, I may have been the only trivia player of long-ago whose name currently is listed in the phone book. He apologized for the lateness of his call, but said he had just started thinking about some of the people from those days and wanted to let us know. I promised I would try to reach some of the others who still lived in this area. I reached three of them quickly and found someone to give me an e-mail address for another. Despite the late notification, all but one of them were able to rejuggle their schedules and join me at the services. In the hallway of the church, we ran into the wife and parents of the owner of the restaurant where we all had laughed so much, competed against each other with such fervor, and gained mutual lasting friendships. We decided on the spot that we would throw a group reunion for ourselves, to drink a little, jabber a lot, laugh more, and catch up on years and years of celebrations, tears, and hugs.
In the meantime, I intend to find someone else to hug tomorrow. I advise you to do the same. You never know. There might not be time to do it later.
I probably wasn't the first choice for the husband's phone call, but as so many people have turned to cell phones and unlisted numbers, I may have been the only trivia player of long-ago whose name currently is listed in the phone book. He apologized for the lateness of his call, but said he had just started thinking about some of the people from those days and wanted to let us know. I promised I would try to reach some of the others who still lived in this area. I reached three of them quickly and found someone to give me an e-mail address for another. Despite the late notification, all but one of them were able to rejuggle their schedules and join me at the services. In the hallway of the church, we ran into the wife and parents of the owner of the restaurant where we all had laughed so much, competed against each other with such fervor, and gained mutual lasting friendships. We decided on the spot that we would throw a group reunion for ourselves, to drink a little, jabber a lot, laugh more, and catch up on years and years of celebrations, tears, and hugs.
In the meantime, I intend to find someone else to hug tomorrow. I advise you to do the same. You never know. There might not be time to do it later.